Ach Du Lieber!

So far, so good on the tree situation, but the wind did a number on the barn roof.  I got the clue when I saw shards of clear plastic in the grass by the door and knew one of the corrugated plastic panels was no more.  The only question was how bad was the damage.  My vocabulary of expletives is getting a workout these days, for sure.  Knowing the girls as I do, I picked up everything I could find before starting our morning routine.  Turned out that it was the "skylight" over Cindy's stall, but only about a quarter had fractured and blown off.  She still has plenty of dry space to lie down.  I dug a trench to drain rain away under the open area, but there wasn't much I could do about the increased breezy conditions.  Finished with the milking, I was leaving the barn and, wouldn't you know it, there was Sheila over in the big pen with a piece of plastic that I'd missed in her mouth.  Doggone goats.  "Don't eat that, you goose!  Give me that!!"  I managed to snatch it away and can only hope she didn't swallow any razor-sharp pieces.  Goats are worse than little kids for getting into anything and everything they shouldn't.

I heard from each of the travelers during the day.  Larry will be leaving for Hawaii in a week (!!) and Pete will be moving to Orangevale by the end of the month, and this is a short month.  Big changes for both of my guys, and I wish them much happiness in their new surroundings.  In my text conversation with Larry, he invited me to come with him, bringing the goats and one chicken.  One chicken?!  I told him I couldn't bear to look the other fourteen in their beady eyes and tell them they'd be left behind.  And what about Bessie Anne, Ralph, and Celeste?  And who would feed Thing, aka Destructo, the ground squirrel, or the turkeys?  No.  No Hawaii in my future.  I stand a better chance of getting to Orangevale, about 25 miles out of Sacramento.  It should be noted that I get down to Sacramento maybe once or twice a year.  Long gone are the days when I was consulting and would easily log 35-40,000 miles annually.

The wind is howling.  Again/still.  I wonder what I'll find out there this morning, she said with fingers crossed.